Page 59 of Minted

Who knows?

I just need to get Barbara to hold my leash.

When I reach for the doorknob, it’s already turning. It’s Barbara, and I freeze.

“Oh,” she says. “I didn’t know you—I mean. Come on in.” She swallows. She’s been wearing fabulous dresses for every holiday party we’ve attended. Tall heels, sparkles, tight fitted. But tonight, she’s wearing dark pants and a red sweater with a reindeer on it, and I kind of love it even more.

“You look great,” I say. “Really comfortable. And happy.”

She blushes.

Did I say something dumb? Before I can ask, someone else walks up behind me. “Bentley?” It’s James. I’ve come to hate his stupid British accent more than I hate people asking me to take a five-minute research survey.

I turn around slowly. “What are you doing here?”

He holds up a large metal bowl. “Seren brought some kind of trail mix stuff to our housewarming party, and then she left it. Remember?”

“Muddy buddies,” I say. “Hers are famous, but Seren has never made trail mix in her life.”

“Whatever,” James says. “When I heard there was a party, I figured I could bring the bowl back.”

I yank the bowl out of his hands. “Thanks. Got it. You can go.”

James frowns. “You have gotten so rude that I can’t even write it off as general American bad manners.”

“No, it’s more like ‘irritated boyfriend dealing with the unwanted ex,’” I say. “Are Brits super nice to their girlfriend’s exes over there?” I feign a bad British accent. “Do you invite them in for tea?”

“Bentley,” Barbara says, the same way I say “Lucky” when I’m warning her.

She’s tugging on my leash.

Maybe that’s a good sign? “Fine,” I say. “Come on in.” I swing the door wide and step through, slinging an arm around Barbara’s shoulders.

“Gee, thanks,” James says as he walks through the door.

“What’s your husband doing here?” Nikki asks.

“I thought you divorced him,” Ricki says.

“I did,” Barbara says. “But we still work together.”

“But this isn’t work,” Nikki says. “So why are you here?” She frowns.

James stops just past the doorway, staring blankly at the two girls.

“Why are the double twins here?” he asks, his head turning slowly toward Barbara.

“Are you going to be our new daddy?” Ricki steps closer, her eyes wide. She brings her hands into a prayer position. “I always wanted a British daddy.”

“And I’ve always wanted a pony.” Nikki’s beaming too. “Will you buy me one for Christmas?”

“Did someone say pony?” Emerson’s new wife, Elizabeth, turns around. “Because a friend of mine has this gorgeous black pony for sale at the barn, and if you want a pony for a kid, Fuego is the one you want.”

James’ eyes widen. “What on earth—”

“Barbara’s fostering Nikki and Ricki right now,” I say. “You didn’t hear?”

Barbara shakes my arm off and walks toward the girls. “That’s enough messing around, you two.”

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